


Bossy Is Not Just A Heifer In Wisconsin

by maaaaa



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Kudos: 10





	Bossy Is Not Just A Heifer In Wisconsin

Give Blair Sandburg an inch, and yessir, that mile is his.

Blair was, without question, the bossiest person Jim’d ever known. From the moment they’d picked themselves up from the pavement behind that garbage truck outside Hargrove Hall, Blair had been bossing Jim around.

No, wait. To be more accurate, the bossiness started at the hospital. Blair hadn’t actually asked Jim to go to Rainer, or even suggested it really. He’d told Jim to go. And Jim had gone. And from that point on out, he was Blair’s to boss.

Most people assumed Jim was the one in charge of their unlikely partnership. Outward appearances and all that. For one, he was bigger than Blair, and older. He also exhibited a more commanding presence. He was the cop, the ex-Ranger, the all round badass. So to the untrained eye, the unsuspecting observer, Jim was the head honcho.

Just goes to show how appearances can be deceiving.

Jim was familiar with how both sides of the bossiness coin could flip. Between his father, school, the military, his time with the Chopec, and now as a cop, he’d in turn been bossed and been the boss.

Except when it came to Blair. The Boss. Bossy Blair. That coin was always flipped in Blair’s favor. If Blair said…by words or by way of an eye-roll or other body language hint…that Jim should jump, it was always just a matter of how soon, how high, and through which hoops the leap would be made.

Sure, in public, the bossiness was subtle, skimming along just under the radar, unnoticeable by design, to anyone but Jim.

But in private, in their most private life, being bossy became one more of Blair’s many fortes.

Thank God.

Being a Sentinel was one of those coulda-shoulda type things where one would think all those heightened senses would have made for a mind-blowing sex life.

The truth of it was that it was down right annoying, and more than a little embarrassing, not to mention ego deflating to come up short, so to speak, due to one sense or the other getting in the way when he was in the sack. His failed marriage was just one testament to that fact.

What it came down to, now that Jim and Blair were lovers, was that he really needed to be bossed around when he and Sandburg screwed.

Blair’s heavy breathing sometimes sounded like a freight train bearing down on him, and his frantic gasps punctuated the air like railroad crossing signals. The hair on Sandburg’s chest and groin would start out soft and comfy sliding against his own smoother skin, but soon the friction would build and would start to feel like steel wool scraping and scratching. Sandburg’s scent, the same scent that seduced Jim that first time and continued to lure him in time after time, intermingled with every other body odor and smell in the loft, and attacked his nose with a vengeance. And his cock, more times than not, felt as if it would melt, or freeze, shoot molten lava or streams of ice.

He could have, should have, just toughed it out. But instead he groaned when he should’ve moaned one time too often, and Blair the Boss Man took over.

Hallelujah.

So now their sex life was in the more than capable hands of Blair ‘Bossanova’ Sandburg.

Which was, for the most part as far as Jim was concerned, all right by him.

But every now and then it just chafed. He’d commanded men in the Rangers for cryin’ out loud. And now his pipsqueak of a partner issued the orders in the bedroom and damn, it just, you know, grated.

~*~*~

They lay side by side on the bed, going through the preliminaries. Foreplay, ala Bossy, consisting of a soothing mantra led by Blair which served to dial Jim’s senses up or down to tolerable levels.

And that was good. Now if only, at that point, Blair would just, for once, relinquish the orchestration of the main event to Jim’s whim.

Blair moved to the edge of the bed, prodding Jim to follow. He stood and directed Jim to his knees.

Jim complied. He slid downward, his hands gliding along Blair’s side, along the curve and swell of his buttocks, grasping his thighs. He came to a stop as his nose met Blair’s groin.

Now or never Ellison.

Jim drew himself up, plastering every ounce of determination into the move. His eyes met Blair’s, and for one tedious moment, he wavered, ready to assert command. His senses wobbled. Blair’s gaze as it met Jim’s was stern, but baffled, and Jim wilted under the force of the love behind the blue.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jim said meekly as he sunk back to his knees and took Blair’s cock into his mouth. His eyes never left Blair’s and his voice had sounded shaky in his own ears. He didn’t really believe it, not for a second.

And neither did Blair.


End file.
